Barrio Mercado, Valencia, Spain. February 2002.

Spanish cities have an extraordinary texture to them, like a well worn leather jacket. They’re comfortable, you can see the evidence of the passing years. The patina of age, I believe the antiques people call it. This patina is very fragile however, and with more money to spend many Spanish authorities have revamped their cites to disastrous visual effect. It’s like someone taking away your old leather jacket and giving you a new one – it’s all very well, but it’s just not the same.

Fré Jaake, Painter, Valencia. May 2002.

This was taken in Fré’s studio during what I think of as his ‘cathedrals’ period. He would pin large sheets of canvas up directly on the wall, not bothering with a stretcher, and just get stuck in with a lump of charcoal. He worked very quickly and often within a day he would already have a lot of paint down. There was no source material around that I could see – these amazing Gothic interiors came straight out of his head.

Pigeons in Formation, Valencia, Spain. May 2002.

I don’t know why I started to take this picture, just one of those scenes that look interesting in some way I guess, and then the pigeons started to move about in my viewfinder as if choreographed. This is a perfectly typical scene in Valencia, a city of hundreds of churches and thousands of church doors, but this simple picture has remained one of my favourites out of the countless photographs I have taken there.

Calle Vitoria, Valencia, Spain. May 2002.

What first caught my eye here was the light reflected on the street, and then the shapes painted on the wall which seem to mimic the pools of light, then the back end of the scooter which, for some reason, is sticking out onto the pavement. While I was preparing to take the picture this guy walked past me and hurried down the street, adding a sense of movement, and the composition was completed. This is one of my favourite pictures.

Plaza Redonda, Valencia, Spain. September 2002.

Sunday mornings are always the time for the pet animal market in the centre of Valencia. This gentleman, a budgerigar breeder, was standing on the sunlit side of the small circular plaza with the light falling on his back and his white table acting as a reflector in front of him. I don’t think he was really as sinister as he looks.

Bar Jimmy Glass, Valencia, Spain. September 2002.

For me, using light is one of photography’s greatest joys. Although I don’t like to create the light deliberately by artificial means, I love to use artificial light if it’s available. Here there was little else to do anyway, and I wanted to capture the intensity with which this guy was playing his pool.

Mercado Central, Valencia, Spain. February 2002.

Just as the market was closing I caught this woman closing her ostrich stand and took a very quick shot – a prime example of the importance being ready, always. Her expression tells of her relief at the end of the working day, but there is also humour in the picture, which I love to see. If a picture raises a smile it will stay in the memory, and will – I hope – also encourage the viewer to look more closely at the image.

Calle Correjería, Valencia, Spain. December 2002.

I’ve often felt like this, walking down the dark streets of a strange city. I’ve no idea what made the dog stop under the light, or look over his shoulder, or why I had my camera pointed at him. Whatever the reasons, the picture somehow came about and I’m grateful. Another case of anticipating the moment and having the camera ready to shoot.